![]() ![]() It’s a shame because his clean and sober period is filled with excellent material that bolsters his reputation as a master storyteller and musical craftsman. While the record, and the six studio releases that followed before his death in 2003, ushered in a new, highly focused stage in his career, Zevon’s earlier days provided him with his most recognizable songs. C.H.U.L.Thirty-five years ago, this month, after a five-year recording absence, Warren Zevon released Sentimental Hygiene, one of his most critically acclaimed albums.BEFORE MICHAEL BAY RUINED EVERYTHING (2).BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO DOGS OF INDETERMINATE MORALITY (2).BACON NAZI IS A JEWISH DOUBLE THREAT (1).ATYPICAL SERIAL KILLER PSYCHOPATHS (15).ATTRACTIVE PEOPLE TALK ABOUT PHYSICS (2).AT LEAST STEVE BUSCEMI AVOIDED THESE (1).Album Review: Warren Zevon - "Transverse City".Gibson's work is fascinating and holds up remarkably well, which is undoubtedly what caught Zevon's interest – but despite his obvious respect, Zevon just isn't the artist best suited to approach Gibson's work and it dilutes a lot of the things which make his own work so potent and original. It's true that the lyrics are neigh-on prophetic (who else was singing about uploading and downloading in 1989? But its so spot-on for today's world that it seems almost laughably obvious). Hence, the songs can feel like a respectful interpretation of the sci-fi author's concerns rather than a full-on assault of Zevon's own indelible personality. While the gloom is faithful to Gibson's work, I doubt Zevon is quite as horrified by the idea of a world of globally interconnected robot zombies as Gibson is in fact, I imagine he'd find that pretty cool in a mordantly funny kind of way. but I don't buy that he's as fatalistic as the lyrics here would have you believe. ![]() The whole album is his take on the works of cyberpunk author William Gibson, whose grim futurism (while admittedly prescient) doesn't really seem to bring out the best in the interpreting artist. His belligerently rough guitar lead brings the otherwise unexceptional "Gridlock" briefly to life, and seems to goad Zevon into letting himself loose a little on the vocals as he drops the studio magic and gives in to the sweet embrace of the unhinged yelp.īut the real issue may be that it's not entirely Zevon's own instinct guiding things. It's interesting to hear the likes of David Gilmour and Jerry Garcia try their hand at Zevon songs, but only Neil Young really heightens the material. The guest stars do fine, but can't do a lot to save tracks which are fundamentally weighed down. Little Feat drummer Richie Hayward brings little of that band's funkiness to this rhythm work here, instead opting for a more technical drum-machine approach while the appropriately named bassist Bob Glaub globs thick stabs of bass onto his tracks, weighing them down when they ought to be dancing.The reliable Waddy Wachel shows up on only a handful of tracks (alas, mostly the less memorable ones) and while he has the most innate understanding of how to play Zevon's material his usually strident style sounds a bit restrained here, as if he's trying not to show up his colleagues' lack of enthusiasm. It may not help that even though the album is certainly among Zevon's most expensive studio efforts, his backing band (though sturdily professional) feels a little bland. "Nobody's in Love This Year" finds Zevon in the lone pocket of heart-on-his-sleeve warmth, but isn't quite a strong enough song to provide the needed balance to the rest of the album's despair and cynicism instead, it feels like a jarring tonal change which doesn't hit hard enough to get the album moving in a different direction or linger long enough to draw us into its world. Witty rants like "Networking" (co-written by FEAR NO EVIL star Stefan Arngrim as part of his generalized quest to be the pimpest motherfucker ever) "Gridlock" and "Down at the Mall" are pleasant enough but dispensable. The only one which really fires on all cylinders is the classic "Splendid Isolation," a erudite and hilarious ode to an agoraphobic misanthrope. Zevon has made his name telling intriguing tales with the vaguest suggestion in his minimal (but highly literate) lyrics, but most of the mid-tempo stuff feels slight even for him, coasting on endlessly repeated choruses and big-studio bloat (“Long Arm” could probably stand to lose a whole minute and a half of filler). More fun (and more typically Zevon) fare, like the call-and-response "Long Arm of the Law" and the bouncy Cold-War shaggy dog tale "Turbulence" feel a little under-baked. It's not all quite so grim, but the heavy stuff seems to be where Zevon's focus is this time. ![]()
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